He storms through the door and darts his eyes about with accusing glances. Stopping at my masterpiece, his lips curl into a sinister smile. “Do you like it?” I ask timidly. And Criticism, seizing the opportunity, begins to tear off pieces and scatter them on the floor. He ignores Wisdom’s guidance and plugs his ears to Tact as he stomps upon the shredded mess that was my creation.

written 12/1/09 (and, quite possibly, appearing on this blog before…)

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